Unheard Music
by Mewraven
Summary: Fleur Delacour has come back to Hogwarts as the Charms Professor during the Trio's Seventh Year. In addition to her job as a teacher, Fleur has to deal with her Veela heritage and the pursuit of her Mate.  may sound over done, but give it a chance
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone. It has been quite some time since I posted any fics, but I have been absorbed by school and reading all of the wonderful Fleur/Hermione fics out there. I've become obsessed with the pairing. As such, I have begun one of my own, which will hopefully be a many-chaptered deal. Cross your fingers. **

**In this story, Voldemort was defeated by Harry when Harry was a baby. So basically Harry is still the boy who lived, and things like the Triwizard tournament still happened. But Harry didn't take part. (if there are any things that don't fit with the way I've set up the story, like some obvious mistake, let me know) **** Harry Ron and Hermione are in their seventh year, and Fleur has come to Hogwarts as the Charms Teacher. Dumbledore is also still alive. I have borrowed the increasingly popular idea that Veela have one mate that they bind with for life, (which I believe was created by Dreiser and D. Geheimnis) but I'm adding my own little twist to it. **

**In any case, I hope you enjoy this story. This chapter is unbeta-ed, so be warned. (I'm on the hunt for a beta if anyone's interested.)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, and am making no money from this story.

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_Without elimination, both a new world_

_And the old made explicit, understood_

_In the completion of its partial ecstasy,_

_The resolution of its partial horror._

_From the Four Quartets, Burnt Norton II_

_-T.S. Eliot

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Chapter 1

Fleur Delacour took a deep breath, then a second. Stepping out into the Great Hall her bright blue eyes took in the hall she had first entered years ago. She shook her head, no need to dwell on past memories. She sat down at her place at the teacher's table, between Rubius Hagrid and Professor Sprout.

The first trickle of students was just beginning to enter the Great Hall, taking their places at their respective house tables. Ducking behind her curtain of silvery-blond hair she did her best to ignore the glances she knew were being directed at her. She knew the stares were inevitable, her Veela heritage made sure of that. Sighing, she lifted her head, her piercing blue eyes sweeping the hall once more.

"S'cuse me, Professor Delacour?" a gruff voice came from next to her.

"Ah, _oui_?" she responded, looking up into the face of Rubius Hagrid.

He blustered, obviously slightly affected by her thrall, but he managed to repress the response from her charms for which she was thankful. "I, I'm the Care o' Magical Creatures Professor, 'though I'm sure you already knew tha'. I mean, you were here back when there was th' Triwizard tournament. Wha' I'm tryin' to say is, you have Veela blood don' ya? I have always been a tad curious abou' the Veela culture. I was hopin' you wouldn' mind jus talkin' to me a bit abou' it?" finally finishing, he looked at her expectantly.

Fleur was reluctant to launch into the complexities and rituals of Veela culture, much of which was kept within the tribe itself, and not meant for outside ears. However, Hagrid's efforts to engage her in a conversation that wasn't just spurred on by her thrall touched her, and she began explaining some of the customs of the Veela.

In the middle of a conversation about the significance of the Summer Solstice to the Veela, they were interrupted by the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, as he rose to greet the student body. Fleur whipped her head around to scan the students, their faces all upturned to the Headmaster. Her eyes were drawn to the Gryffindor table and she focused on a face framed by brown curls. Fleur felt her heart beating louder in her chest as she stared without even realizing. Her eyes drifted from the deep brown eyes to the cute nose and beautifully sculpted lips on the face of Hermione Granger.

Her trance was interrupted by the entrance of the first years, and she politely focused her attention on the small frightened children as they were sorted into the houses. However each time a student was put in Gryffindor her eyes would find themselves fixed on the smiling face of Hermione Granger.

The feast proceeded without much fuss, Professor Sprout engaged her in a conversation about Herbology, and she was glad to have a break from Hagrid's questions about Veela.

With the feast finished, Dumbledore stood once more, and began to speak. "Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts. This year, we are pleased to welcome a new Professor to our ranks. Professor Flitwick has retired after many years, but his post is to be taken by none other than Miss Fleur Delacour!"

Fleur stood to raucous cheering and clapping and bowed slightly; eyes ever watching the brown haired Gryffindor girl. She clapped politely along with the other students, but paused to elbow her red haired friend who was sitting next to her. Fleur frowned slightly as she sat down, the boy, like many others in the hall were very strongly affected by her thrall.

Dumbledore began speaking again, Fleur only half paying attention as she examined the Hermione. Hermione had matured in the years since The Triwizard Tournament. Her brown hair was no longer an unruly mess, but it hung in loose curls around her face. Her face was no longer one of a girl, but it had matured into that of a woman. Fleur drank in her beauty as her eyes roved lower. The girl's body had matured nicely, even though it was a little difficult to see beneath her robes. Her eyes lingered on the girl's chest before she caught herself, and forced her eyes back to Dumbledore who was just finishing his speech.

"Thank you everyone, I hope this year is a wonderful one for us all. Let us rise and sing the school song, before heading off to bed."

The school stood, and with Dumbledore conducting, it belted out the school song. Smiling gently Fleur stood as well, but did not join in with the rest of the school.

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In her rooms she discarded her flowing robes for her pajamas, which this night consisted of a shirt of her father's and her underwear. She threw herself onto her four-poster bed, and let out a long breath. Her thoughts were running away from her, going places she was not ready for. She banished those thoughts from her head, and thought of the time she had first seen Hermione Granger. When she had first _known_.

_ All through her childhood she had been told the stories. Warned and prepared for the moment when she would see her One. Her soul mate. Even so, all of the preparation was not enough when the moment finally came. Beauxbatons had been invited to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. Fleur had been selected to go and represent Beauxbatons in the competition, an honor that many envied her for. That first night, that first fateful night, as she entered the Great Hall she knew all eyes were on her. Her Veela heritage made her extraordinarily beautiful, and males and females alike were drawn to her. Her eyes swept over the hall, taking in the four tables with the many students sitting at them, staring at her. She smiled gently as she was supposed to and curtsied. As she straightened, her eyes fell on those of a girl, who couldn't have been more than 15 years old. Instantly her breathe hitched and her throat became suddenly dry. She could not tear her eyes away from the girl, she could swear her heart stopped beating in that instant, before springing back to life with renewed fervor, forever changed by that eye contact. Her head was swimming as she took her seat at the Ravenclaw table._

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Fleur sighed and rolled on her side, the rest of that year had been a nightmare. In addition to coming in last in the Triwizard cup, the love of her life, her soul mate had become involved with one of her competitors. She couldn't blame the girl, he was handsome and male. She had tried to forget the girl, many fleeting romances passed, she could not even remember their faces. Not that it mattered, she knew as long as she was without her mate she could never be happy.

But three years had passed, and Fleur was back, by request of the great Albus Dumbledore himself. Judging by his letter she was sure he knew about her beginning courtship of the Granger girl. Fleur chuckled lightly to herself, what a strange man. She was almost positive he was setting them up too.

Fleur rolled over. Classes began the next morning, and she was sure she would need her sleep. She had the seventh years right after lunch, and she had the feeling it was going to be a long day.

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**Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome back to Unheard Music everyone. Thank you to those who reviewed and read this story, your reviews lit up my day. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. Fleur might seem a little unpredictable in her emotions, but in this chapter at least, the parts are merely segments from a much larger period of time.**

**Hopefully I'll be able to update this story and keep it going. (your support has been wonderful) I already have chapter 3 written, which I'm super excited about, but we'll see. By the way, I am still looking for a beta if anyone is interested…**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.

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Chapter 2

Standing outside her classroom, Fleur steeled herself. She took a deep breath before pushing open the door and striding purposefully into the room (she cringed, she could practically hear drool falling onto desks) to stand in front of her desk. "Good morning class," she began. "My name is Fleur Delacour, but to you, it is _Professeur_ Delacour." She could not help when her accent came out, even though she had worked hard to suppress it. She actually rather liked saying words with a French lilt, English was just so ugly sometimes. She looked at the class from beneath her eyelashes as she continued. "It is my pleasure to be your teacher this year. Let us begin, shall we? Turn to page 2 of your books if you please."

The class went relatively smoothly, the only major bump coming when she asked a question of Ronald Weasley, and he responded by asking if she was single. But apart from that, Fleur was very pleased. The highlight of the lesson came when she asked what a Protean Charm was used for. When no one raised their hand, she called on Hermione, who had been staring moodily out of the window. The girl answered with perfect accuracy (Fleur managed to comprehend that much as her brain became a befuddled mess upon hearing the brunette's voice, which happened to be the loveliest thing she had ever heard).

At the end of class she assigned a roll of parchment on what areas of charms would the students like to explore, and how would that area be useful to them after their graduation from Hogwarts (an easy assignment to be sure, but it was the first day after all).

After the seventh years had all left, which took some time as many of the boys crowded around Fleur in vain attempts to get her attention; she left the castle and made her way down to the lake where she sat at the water's edge. To her left there was a dock which had been built since she had last been to the school, it extended a large distance into the water, perhaps ten meters and it was at least two meters wide.

Fleur let herself fall back into the grass "_Mon Dieu…_" she breathed. Behind her closed eyelids she could see Hermione's face, every detailed engraved in her memory. "_Elle est tr__è__s belle_." She mumbled to herself.

She stiffened as she heard footsteps approaching, and made to sit up but she paused when she heard the voice of Albus Dumbledore. "Relax Miss Delacour, there is no need to get up." Dumbledore folded himself down gracefully on the ground next to her before speaking again. "I hope you found your accommodations pleasing."

"_Mais, oui!_" replied Fleur immediately. It was true; her quarters were wonderfully decorated in soft blues with a giant fireplace and a beautiful view of the lake.

"Ah good, I had hoped you would find them to your liking." He continued. "I trust your classes are going smoothly, no one is giving you any trouble…" he left the question hanging in the air. He looked at Fleur, whose bright blue eyes were fixed on his own. "But I see that is not all that troubles you…" he mused, "I suppose it must be the matter of Miss Granger that is on your mind.

Fleur's eyes widened in surprise.

"Ah yes" he chuckled. "I can see I hit the nail on the head. Part of the reason I sent you the invitation to come here was to give you the chance you deserve. While it is true my knowledge of Veela and their culture is limited, I am aware that until you are one with your mate you will not be truly happy in life."

"But how-"

He chuckled again and cut her off. "Ah, young love…" he rose, "Good day Miss Delacour."

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The Library, a quiet place, a refuge from the bustle of life in the castle, a place where young minds could come and study with shelves upon shelves of knowledge all around them. This is where Fleur found herself in the hours after dinner, immersed in a copy of the biography of Albus Dumbledore. (Not that she was shirking her work as a teacher; she was merely taking a break from grading, yes that was it.)To say it was interesting was an understatement. It was extremely interested, and Fleur wondered why she had never read it before. About half way through the seventh chapter, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, her pulse raced for no apparent reason and tingles raced up and down her spine. She knew that feeling; she knew who had just entered the library. Fleur got up and moved into the shelves of books: watching. _Stalking_ her mind told her. She ignored it.

Hermione, her bag loaded down with books made her way to the secluded corner where Fleur had been moments ago. Fleur watched with interest as the girl sat and began to work. Hermione's pen practically flew across the paper as she wrote, and Fleur could not help but notice her delicate wrists that were exposed as she pushed up her sleeves.

When Hermione paused for a moment, Fleur made her move, approaching the table where Hermione sat. "Oh," she exclaimed, feigning surprise. "I had not expected anyone to be here. I hope you don't mind?" Feeling bold Fleur sat down before Hermione could respond. Hermione shrugged and continued with her work.

With a mental shrug of her own, Fleur opened her book and continued to read. She did not get far before her gaze was drawn upward to Hermione's face. The girl's brow was furrowed in concentration as she mouthed something to herself. Fleur smiled gently, she was so cute. Hermione glanced up at Fleur who quickly looked back down at her book. The girl gave her a look of irritation before continuing her writing.

Smirking internally Fleur decided to play a little. She looked up at Hermione again; fixing the girl with a look that she knew could make any man's pants just a little tighter. Her gaze fell on the brunette's lips, which were pink and full. The girl was nervously biting them. Her eyes blazing, she raised them again to Hermione's deep brown orbs. The girl's quill had ceased its movements and her eyes were wide as they stared at Fleur. Fleur smirked, the action causing the younger girl's eyes to narrow dangerously at her. A challenge. And Fleur was not one to deny any kind of challenge. Her pride was too great for that.

In a fluid, graceful movement Fleur was standing. She walked behind Hermione and looked over her shoulder; the girl stiffened. She leaned in close, and she could feel the heat radiating off of the girl. "_Ma belle_, I'm afraid you have spelled exhilaration wrong…"

Hermione's face turned a deep shade of red as she felt Fleur's breath against her ear. Rechecking her parchment, she saw that the French woman was correct. She wondered how she could have possibly spelt the word wrong, it was very uncharacteristic. She turned back to the blonde to give a snide reply, but when she looked around, the Veela had disappeared.

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**Thanks for reading!**

**Please Review**


	3. Chapter 3

**Welcome back everyone, or perhaps just welcome. I am super excited for this third chapter of Unheard Music. Perhaps the title might make more sense after reading this? You'll have to let me know. A reviewer of the last chapter mentioned their interest in Hermione's side of this whole thing, and don't despair. That is coming, but not in this chapter, the next one. :P**

**In any case, please enjoy the chapter. **

**Oh, I am still looking for a beta. The offer stands. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.**

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Chapter 3

_Fleur was lost. Lost in a tangle of limbs, lost in the feeling of soft skin against her own, lost in the smell of the girl above her, lost in the sound of the soft moans that came from the girl's lips. Everything about her was intoxicating, like a drug Fleur could not get enough of. Smooth lips gave way to silky skin, to a heat that Fleur felt coursing through her body. She heard herself moan, as small but nimble fingers moved tantalizingly slowly towards her center. The feel of the girls skin against her own felt like heaven and she wanted, no, needed more. Gasping and pleading she squirmed, just as those fingers finally reached their destination. _

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Fleur jolted upright, panting. Her entire body was on fire, and completely drenched in sweat. She stared blankly ahead of her for a moment, trying to regain her bearings. "_C'__é__tait un r__ê__ve_…" she sighed and held her head in her hands, rubbing her temples.

She knew beyond a doubt who the girl in her dream had been, and she knew why. Desire for her Mate was something that was a familiar tickle always at the back of her mind. She had control; it was not the lust of a brute creature. It was the years of pent up desire. She knew it was part of her, just like the Veela blood that flowed through her veins; in fact, it was because of that blood. She and the Veela were one; there was no separating the two, even if she had wanted to. Unfortunately the Veela came with an immense amount of baggage. Fleur shook her head in amusement. 'A great deal of baggage indeed…' she thought ruefully.

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Several weeks (6; yes she was counting) after their encounter in the library Fleur found herself back in that very same space. She knew it was partially the fault of her obsession (as much as she tried to deny it) with Hermione that brought her back; but it was also the familiar smell of books. Her family had a vast library at their home, and it was one of her favorite haunts. She recalled many a peaceful, wonderful hour sat curled up with a book on one of the many comfortable chairs scattered throughout that room.

Hermione herself was seated at the same table she had been that first time, deeply immersed in a large heavily bound book. A roll of parchment was next to her on the table, and she made notes on it occasionally with the quill she kept chewing on. Fleur thought it was a rather adorable habit. Had she been aware of the slightly sappy look on her face she would have chastised herself, but she was too distracted to care. Even as Hermione rolled up her parchment and put it into her bag along with her book; Fleur still watched, lost in the girl.

Hermione glanced up. She could feel the eyes on her. Fleur was in the library again. It was not that Hermione minded her presence; she quite respected the French woman actually. Her skills as a witch were extraordinary. It was just sometimes Hermione caught the French woman looking at her. It was not really a predatory glance, it was not hostile. But neither was it comfortable. She mostly tried to ignore it when it happened, and usually Fleur had looked away by the time Hermione looked at her. However, this time was different. Fleur was still watching her when she let her eyes rise to those of the blonde. Startled by the eye contact, Hermione's eyes went wide, and she blushed, for no apparent reason. Scolding herself for the heat she felt in her cheeks, she quickly left the library.

Fleur herself was a little surprised as the girl looked up. She had forgotten herself and had kept her gaze on the brunette. Not that she really cared that she had been caught, (not too much anyway) she had kept the gaze. The look in the girl's eyes, from surprise, to embarrassment had tickled the Veela and she had watched in rapture as the blush formed on the girl's face. She sighed as the girl left, '_Merde_, perhaps that was not the most strategic of moves…' she thought gloomily, once again returning to her book.

She was almost finished with Dumbledore's biography. Her reading had been put on hold for a few weeks due to the amount of assignments she had had to grade. She had made a note not to assign so many in the future.

"Ah Miss Delacour, I hope you are finding my life's story interesting?"

Fleur felt her heart jolt in her chest at the sound of the voice behind her. She was sure she left the seat of her chair when her body reacted to the interruption. "_Putain_!" she exclaimed. "Ah, _Professeur_, you 'ave given me quite a fright. My sincerest apologies for my language." She was sure she was red; she could certainly feel the heat radiating from her face.

"It is of no trouble Miss Delacour," he assured her. "I had no intention of startling you. Forgive me. I must confess I am rather curious about how you have been doing."

Fleur raised a perfect eyebrow. 'Leave it to Dumbledore to be a nosy old geezer.' She thought irritably. It was too bad they had failed to mention that in his biography. "I am doing quite well." She responded, careful to keep her voice neutral.

"I see," he mused cryptically. "No progress with Miss Granger then I take it?" his question was more of a statement. "How unfortunate. I had so hoped things would be moving faster. But then, I am a romantic…"

Both of Fleur's eyebrows rose this time.

"Oh yes," Dumbledore chuckled. "It is a true confession. But everyone has their weaknesses…hm?" he eyed her with such a piercing stare that Fleur felt like he was reading her like an open book. An irony; considering she had his biography open on her lap. "But no matter. I am sure everything will be resolved in due time. Good day Miss Delacour." He swept his cloak around him and was away, leaving Fleur to gape after him.

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The night was cold but Fleur hardly noticed. Perhaps it was her Veela blood that kept her warm, or maybe she just was too numb to feel the cold anymore. She stood at the end of the dock that stretched out into the lake feeling the serenity and the chaos in the air, the water, all around her. Yet strangely she was perfectly calm, and the thought of falling into the cold black water of the lake had not even crossed her mind.

She could feel it welling up inside her, like a geyser ready to burst forth. She swallowed, and looked around, not that she could see much as it was. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself; it would be like trying to stop her Veela charm from affecting those around her.

She opened her mouth and the sound soared from her lips. Notes intertwined and connected, lost in the sound of each other, yet each so perfectly clear. The echo of her voice bounced back to her from the cliffs surrounding the lake, each time amplifying, and it seemed like there was a whole choir of Veelas singing with her. She had to admit her choice of venue had been sound.

The wind began to pick up, and the water around her became agitated, sloshing, but never touching her. She felt like a siren of ancient times, calling the sailors to their deaths, smashed against rocky cliffs. But who was she kidding, she was a siren, but her call could only be heard by one person.

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Somewhere in Gryffindor tower a girl turned over, restless in her sleep.

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**Thank you for reading, please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone! I am proud to present chapter 4 of Unheard Music. This is the first chapter that has been read over by someone who wasn't me, and I'd really like to thank my beta lily. lover.17 :)**

**This chapter gives some insight to Hermione's side of the story. There is also quite a bit of French in the Chapter. I don't speak French very well, but I can understand it very well, so if there are mistakes in the French I apologize. :P And if you're curious about what exactly Fleur says you can pm me or something. You could also put it into google translator or something and get an idea of what it means. **

**While on the topic of pm's, the number of reviews that I got for the last chapter was significantly less than the first two. Strange non? (I guess this doesn't really have anything to do with pm's…whatever) But it's always nice to hear from the readers, anything from the fact that you loved the chapter to what your favorite part of the chapter was, or some constructive criticism is great.**

**I think that is all. **

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.**

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Chapter 4

Hermione was confused. It was a particularly disorientating feeling. She never had trouble understanding things in lessons; in fact everything came easily to her. For Harry it was his flying, for her it was academics and for Ron it was, well, she'd think of that later.

Not that she disliked Ron. In fact, he was one of her best friends, almost as close to her as Harry. The three of them had been through so much together that it was impossible not to be fond of each other. She sighed, looking up from her book. The two boys were in a heated argument about Quiddich, which Ginny was following, but Hermione chose to ignore. She studied her closest friends. They had all grown so much over the years, physically and mentally.

Harry was still as attractive as ever, his shocking green eyes his most striking feature. Everywhere he went there was always someone who commented on them. Once upon a time she had a crush on him, but that was a childish crush on the boy who lived, not on Harry himself. He was with Ginny anyway, and they had been dating for almost two years. They were quite perfect for each other in her opinion. Ginny's fiery personality complimented Harry's more steadfast and calm personality and vice versa.

However, because the two of them were together, there was pressure for Hermione and Ron to get together. It came mostly from Ron's mother, but also from the general wizarding community at large. She shook her head at the thought. She had no desire to date Ron, and she didn't think that he had any desire to date her. He was always following girls around with his eyes, something she found rather gross, but she supposed he was a teenage boy and it was to be expected. And there was of course his reaction to Professeur Delacour. Not that he really had control over that, all of the boys, and many of the girls had similar reactions to her. Even Harry to some extent, but he was very good at controlling it. She was a Veela after all; even if she was not a full blood her thrall still affected them.

Hermione sighed again; this was where her confusion began. She had never had fond feelings for the Veela. In fact she had detested her when they had first met in her fourth year, though her dislike had eventually turned to respect. Grudgingly though she might add.

But not even her respect for the woman could explain what was going on now. She knew it was not the same kind of brain dead gawking that most of the school did whenever Fleur was around. She wouldn't be caught dead looking like that anyway, but whenever Fleur was near Hermione's eyes were drawn to her. She became flustered more easily. And the fact that the Veela seemed to go out of her way to make sure these little occurrences happened were extremely infuriating. Even some of the other teachers seemed to have it out for her.

Just the other day after transfigurations Professor McGonagall had asked her to deliver a note to Fleur. (Thinking to herself irritably that McGonagall could have just delivered it using magic. But whatever.) Lunchtime was just starting, and Hermione was hungry. She had hurriedly made her way to Fleur's classroom, knocked and then entered.

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_Hermione paused, transfixed at the scene in front of her. Fleur was sitting behind her desk, a scroll of parchment open in front of her reading. This wouldn't' have been at all out of the ordinary, except that she was having little success at actually reading what appeared to be a letter. _

_A medium sized brown owl had delivered the letter. Instead of doing what any good and well trained owl would do, it was jumping and flying around, pecking prodding and generally making a nuisance of itself. Circled Fleur's head and landed on the back of her chair before proceeding to eat her hair._

_ "Merde! Arr__ê__te! You stupid bird! Je vais te tuer! J'ai dit arr__ê__te! Quand j'en aurais fini avec cette lettre, tu vas mourir!"_

_The French woman was obviously threatening the bird, but her efforts were in vain. The exsasperation was clear in her voice, but the bird took no heed of her and continued to do whatever it pleased. _

"_Chaque fois que tu me rends visite tu est de plus en plus comme ma soeur-ne sois pas fier! Tu est un petit-"_

_Hermione cleared her throat. Fleur paused mid insult and looked up, suddenly realizing that she had company. The owl likewise paused in its endeavors. The sight of the two of them gawking at her from the desk sent Hermione into a fit of giggles, which abruptly when Fleur's gaze became icy. _

_She stood, and stalked over to the brunette who still stood by the door. Hermione could almost feel the icicles piercing her from the woman's eyes. She shivered involuntarily. _

"_Hermione…how nice of you to…drop by. I hope you are here for something other than watching that little pest put on a spectacle." Fleur's voice was cold as she circled the girl. She stood behind her and leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "I'm afraid Miss Granger that I will have to ask you to write one extra scroll on abstract charms." _

_Hermione gasped loudly and spun to face her professor. "But Professor! I simply came to deliver a note from Professor McGonagall! Surely that does not warrant punishment. I am sincerely sorry that I interrupted you and-" Hermione was fuming. She knew that this was wrong for Fleur to do. She hadn't even done anything. _

_Fleur interrupted her. "I know." She flashed a coy smile "I apologize but I couldn't resist. You are very cute when you're mad." Fleur laughed at the look at Hermione's face. It was somewhere between surprise, disbelief, and anger. "I really am sorry ma belle, please forgive me. Come, sit for a moment."_

_Hermione didn't move. _

"_Non? I promise that I will not bite you. Unless of course you ask me to." Hermione could see the smirk tweaking the corner of Fleur's mouth as she sat back at her desk. _

_Hermione huffed, but walked over to the desk. She tossed the note in front of Fleur, who read it quickly. Hermione looked around bored, and her eyes fell on the owl who was preening himself on the back of Fleur's chair. The owl looked up and cocked his head at her. He ruffled his feathers and flew over to her, landing gently on her shoulder. Hermione turned her head in surprise to look at the owl, and found herself staring into very large, very close owl eyes. _

_The owl tilted his head, still staring at her, then he blinked, cooed and nuzzled her cheek with his beak. Hermione looked taken aback. She had never really liked owls very much, but this one seemed to have taken an immediate liking to her. _

"_He likes you. Don't be fooled though, he's an annoying little thing, turn your back and he'll create a mess faster than you can blink" The owl hooted indignantly." Oui je parle de tu. Ne me regarde pas comme __ç__a." Fleur glared at the owl. "I'm sorry about before…Perhaps I can repay you sometime?" Fleur smiled at the girl who just stared at her. "Please, don't let me keep you; I am sure that your friends are waiting for you, non? A bient__ô__t Miss Granger." As Hermione left, the blonde haired Veela resumed the perusal of her letter, in relatively more peace than before the girl had entered. _

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Hermione sighed again and shifted in her seat. The (beautiful) blonde Veela she had for a teacher was getting to her. And she had no idea what to do about it.

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**Thanks for reading!**

**Please feel free to review :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone! Chapter 5 of Unheard Music is here. First I really want to thank my beta, lily. Lover.17 She's been an awesome help. :)**

**Secondly I want to thank all of the people who reviewed. It was really awesome to see them all in my inbox. Thank you so much. I do just want to clear something up, because a reviewer brought something to my attention. I was never really clear about Voldemort in this story, in the first chapter I said that he didn't really exist. What I really meant was that Harry defeated him when he was just a baby. So Harry is still the boy who lived, and the Triwizard tournament still happened, though Harry was not a part of it. If anyone notices a place where I wrote something that doesn't fit with this, please let me know. **

**Thirdly, and finally, I apologize that this chapter is a bit shorter than the others; it's a bit of a filler. **

**Please enjoy this chapter, and don't forget to review! :P**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story. **

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Chapter 5

Halfway through November and Fleur was nowhere close to her goal of getting to know Hermione (getting together with Hermione). Their meetings had become more and more frequent, but each was very short, and the conversations were impersonal and without meaning.

It frustrated Fleur to no end. She wanted the girl. No, she needed the girl. The craving she felt every time the girl was near had only grown stronger. Every fiber of her body desired, wanted, craved, needed, required that girl. Fleur sighed and continued eating her breakfast.

It was a rather miserable November morning, the ceiling of the great hall was cloudy, and looked cold. Snow had already dusted the ground on several occasions, and Fleur pulled her cloak tightly around her to keep warm. To top it all off, it was a Hogsmeade day, and all of the students would be going into the town, even the first and second years. In some ways, Fleur was glad that all of the students would be gone for the day, she needed to sing, and it was too risky when they were there. Well, specifically when Hermione was there. The music had a way of building and bubbling until it boiled, and she could not contain the sound anymore.

She sighed as she watched the students eating in the Great Hall. They were happy cheerful and ready for their day out on the town. Her eyes strayed to the Gryffindor table where Hermione, Harry, and Ron were just finishing their breakfast. Hermione looked wonderful as she sat with her friends, Fleur couldn't help but to notice. She always noticed when Hermione was around, even if she couldn't see her she would get a shiver running up and down her spine and the back of her neck would prickle. Fleur watched (longingly) as Hermione, Harry, and Ron left the hall before she herself departed for her quarters to spend some time grading.

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The sun had come out by the time Fleur made her way down to the edge of the lake. It was still blustery and cold, the wind whipped her platinum blonde hair around her face, and it tried to steal her cloak off from her shoulders. She sat near the edge of the water, and leaned back against a rock. She glanced around, confirming that she was alone. Not that it really mattered; the person that she was worried about was happily in Hogsmeade.

This time when the music came, it was a song her _grand-m__è__re_ had sung to her when she was little. The song was in the language of the Veela; a beautiful flowing language. The language of the Veela was an ancient language, mostly forgotten by the general society. Fleur herself could speak it; her _grand-m__è__re_ had taught her the language as she was growing up, and she loved it, twisting her tongue around the sounds. She had heard that it was an ethereal experience to listen to Veelas converse in their language, almost a sensual experience.

Fleur stopped singing and wrinkled her nose at the memory of her mother telling her that talking in the language of the Veela was a wonderful way to talk dirty in the bedroom. The images that that one comment had brought on had haunted her for weeks, and not in a good way. The mate of a Veela, once the two are properly bonded to each other (that is to say they both recognize the relationship and all that it entails to be in love with a Veela, and then consummate it) can understand the language of the Veela. They could not speak it unless they learned it like any other language, but they could understand it.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by none other than Rubius Hagrid who had somehow been able to approach without Fleur noticing. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was surprised at his quietness, considering he was such a large man.

"Er, I'm sorry if I'm interruptin' anything, but I couldn't help but t' hear you singing over here. You um, have a beau'iful voice." He reddened. "Ahem, but th' real reason I came over was t' ask you something. Once winter sets in, the Care of Magical Creatures class is goin' to be moving inside the castle cause o' the cold. I was wonderin' if you would be willing to come to the seventh year class and talk a bit abou' Veelas and their culture. I'm plannin' on assigning each student a magical creature to research, an' as part of that, they would have to do an interview with that magical creature. I'd really be thankful if you'd do that. I think it's really importan' for the young folk to know about all o' the other creatures and cultures out in the world. O' course if you'd rather not come talk that's fine also, really you shouldn't feel pressured or-"

Fleur cut him off. " 'agrid, it would be my pleasure to come and talk to the Seventh Years about the Veela. Please, let me know when you would like me to attend your class." She smiled a charming smile. "But if you'll please excuse me, there are some things I must attend to. I will speak with you again soon _non_? _A beint__ô__t_."

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	6. Chapter 6

**Hello everyone! Welcome to Chapter 6 of Unheard Music. I wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed the story thus far. Your overwhelmingly positive support has been wonderful and inspiring. Thank you all so much. :)**

**This chapter is another filler in regards to Hermione/Fleur action (sorry!) but at least you get to learn more about the Veela as I have crafted them. **

**As always, a big thank you goes out to my beta, lily. lover. 17**

**I hope everyone enjoys the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.**

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Chapter 6

Fleur's nerves were singing in anticipation and actual nervousness as she stood at the entrance of the room where the Care of Magical Creatures was being held. She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as students filed in and sat down in desks.

"Ah Fleur!" there was no mistaking Hagrid's voice. "Thank you so much fer agreeing to come today. If you would like to come up t' the fron' of the classroom, we'll be startin' soon." He pulled a chair from behind the desk and motioned for Fleur to sit as he began to address the students. "Good morning class!" he began "Today I have a real treat for you all. Professor Delacour has kindly agreed to come talk to us about th' Veela and their culture." He gestured vaguely in Fleur's direction. "After this class you'll select yer magical creature to do your report on, and remember, y' must do an interview with them as part of the assignment. Whoever gets the Merfolk, don' worry, you'll get a translator." He chuckled. "Alrigh', let's welcome Professor Delacour!"

He stepped aside and Fleur rose, squashing her nerves down as she moved in front of the class. She could feel the stares, the familiarity of the feeling actually calmed her. Except for the girl near the front of the class, whose eyes Fleur avoided like the plague. She was about to talk about the Veela, her heritage. Hermione was a smart girl. In all likely hood, she would be able to figure everything out. And heaven forbid if she was the one who picked the Veela for her project. Fleur swallowed, as feelings of anticipation, fear and desire washed over her. She wanted that to happen. It was as if Hagrid had purposefully set this opportunity in front of her. It would be so easy to simply spell the hat and- no. She shouldn't do that. If it she and Hermione were meant to be, then they would be.

She brought herself back to the present. "_Bonjour, _thank you for having me here today to talk to you about Veela culture. I myself am only a quarter Veela, but that is enough for me to have the Veela's thrall. Veelas are sexual creatures." She pinked. This was where it got awkward, and all of the boys and many of the girls became even more hot and bothered. " There is no way to get around that. The Veela's thrall is a remnant from one of our ancestors, the sirens, who lured sailors to their deaths with their song. The Veela's thrall does not affect those who share in their Veela blood, and generally it does not affect a Veela's mate.

" There are no full blooded male Veela, however once Veelas began to mate with those of non Veela blood, males began to be born. Most full-blooded Veela live in a clan, and only leave if their mate is a non Veela. The customs of the clans are extraordinarily complicated and secret one must not give away all their secrets, non?" she smiled prettily. "I can say that music is very important to the culture of the Veela. A full blooded Veela can capture anyone of non Veela descent with her song and thrall and control them to do her bidding. This makes it very dangerous for non Veelas to be near a clan of full blooded Veela. However, those who are mixed blood can control only their mate with their song."

She snuck a look at Hermione, and noticed a boy in the back with his hand raised. Fleur thought vaguely that his entire body looked like it was pink from his blush. "Uh, professor? Can you sing for us?"

Fleur barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She should have expected that someone would ask that question. At least they didn't ask if she knew who her mate was. She sighed inwardly from relief. "No, I am very sorry but I have a bit of a scratch in my throat right now, and if I sing it might turn into a bit of a cold." She politely sidestepped his request, but she couldn't help but notice that Hermione's eyes narrowed. She swallowed again and tried to imagine that she hadn't.

"Does anyone else have any questions?" there was silence for a moment and then about ten hands raised in the air. Fleur cringed in her head. _Stupide…tu sais comment les jeunes sont… _She sighed. She had done it now. But she couldn't avoid the questions, so she dutifully answered (or sidestepped) all of the questions that the class had. It was quite some time before Hagrid stood up.

"Ah, blimey, look at the time. We have to choose the magical creatures now before time runs out. Thank you Professor, fer letting us have your time."

Fleur smiled, and nodded her head slightly at Hagrid who blushed slightly. She moved to the side as all of the students crowded up to the front to choose their magical species. She watched as Hermione hung back with Harry and Ron as the crowd began to thin. Fleur couldn't help but be blown away by Hermione's beauty every time she laid eyes on the girl. Unabashedly she let her eyes trace the Hermione's form, practically undressing her with her eyes. Her eyes wandered back up to the back of the girl's head just as she glanced behind her. Their eyes met. Fleur couldn't pull her eyes away from the deep brown orbs of the younger girl, even though she knew that her own eyes were intense and dark with lust. Her predatory instincts kicked in as she stared the girl down, willing her to know, to want, to need like she did. The connection felt like it lasted for minutes, but in reality it was only a moment before Harry pulled at Hermione's sleeve and she turned away.

Fleur looked at the floor, thoroughly embarrassed. She slapped herself mentally. Why couldn't she pull away, she shouldn't have held that gaze. She felt vulnerable and small. She cursed herself. Stupid stupid…_elle ne peut pas savoir…pas encore_…

Footsteps. Someone was approaching, Fleur lifted her head dreading, but hoping...

"Ah, Professor, it looks like I chose Veelas…" the voice trailed off.

Fleur found herself feeling both relief and horror as she looked up at the fidgeting red haired boy standing before her.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Hello everyone! I can't believe how long it has been since I have updated. My most sincere and profuse apologies to you all. I have been super busy, and I actually have a huge project due tomorrow, but I wanted to get this out for you guys cause I really, really love this chapter. I'm going to put a translation for the French in this chapter at the end because I know people don't want to have to look it up. :P Thank you everyone for your reviews, it's always wonderful when one pops up in my inbox.**

**There's a little bit of a lemon (only very slightly) at the end so if you're not up for it…then don't read it.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story. **

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Chapter 7

Fleur sank into her armchair which sat in front of the roaring fire in her quarters. She was so tired, and her heart sank at the thought of telling Ronald Weasley about the Veela. She could not get that class out of her mind. She replayed every minute, and relived the moment of eye contact with Hermione over and over again.

It had been one day since that class, and now it was evening and she had yet to hear from the Weasley boy. She was quite surprised by this fact; she had expected him to show up at her doorstep panting like a dog, even though that was being a little harsh. Fleur shrugged and shifted in her chair, slinging her legs up over one of the arms.

Lost in her thoughts, she jumped at the tapping at her window. She looked up and a smile broke out on her face. "_Ah, Jean-Claude, t'es en retard_." She scolded the owl as she let him into the room. He cooed indignantly and flew to perch on the arm chair Fleur had been sitting in. "_Tu m'as apport__é__ une lettre?"_ The owl hooted and stuck out his leg for her. She reached to untie the letter and just as she was about to touch it, he jerked his leg back. Fleur glowered at him, and he ruffled his feather nonchalantly. _"Je ne veux pas jouer aujourd'hui. Donne moi la lettre. Maintenant. J'ai dit maintenant. Putain, Jean- Claude! Si tu ne me donnes pas la lettre, je vais-"_

She was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. It was the second time someone had come in when Jean-Claude was tormenting her and she had had it. She turned to berate (yell at) the person who dared to interrupt her, and found herself looking into the clear blue eyes (twinkling with contained mirth) of Albus Dumbledore. Shocked, she forgot what she was about to say.

"Ah, Miss Delacour, I'm afraid I did knock, but you must not have heard me. I hope this owl is not giving you too much trouble." The owl hooted innocently, and Dumbledore chuckled**.** "As I thought. Moving on to more important matters, I have some news which concerns you Miss Delacour. May I sit down?" He moved to the arm chair opposite of Fleur's.

"Certainly sir." She motioned for him to sit.

"I am afraid I must inform you that Mr. Weasley has come down with a minor hex of some sort." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly. "Madame Pomfrey is up to her ears in potions and remedies. It seems that this particular hex gives the bearer a new ailment every time the previous one is cured."

Fleur raised her eyebrows. That did not sound like a minor hex. A hex like that would be extraordinarily difficult. Probably more difficult than anything any student was capable of. She tuned back into what Dumbledore was saying.

"Yes indeed it is rather misfortunate." (Fleur noted that he didn't sound at all concerned.) "I had heard that he was assigned a paper on the Veela, which included an interview. But given the circumstances, I do not think he will not be able to complete that." Fleur's mood took a turn for the better. "However, I do believe that he is able to write papers during some of the ailments that are not so awful. Yes, therefore I have concluded that if someone does the interview for him, he will be able to complete the assignment by using the notes from that interview." Fleur's mood darkened. "I had asked Mr. Potter, but he is very busy with Quiddich. The season has just begun as I am sure you are aware."

His eyes began twinkling again. "So instead I have asked Miss Granger to help Mr. Weasley out with his assignment. I hope that does not inconvenience you."

Fleur's eyes widened and her mind came to a sudden stop, before springing back to life. The conniving old geezer. No wonder he was so calm about the Weasley boy's hex. He had cast it. Fleur began to fume. The nosey match-maker, meddling where he shouldn't, sticking his nose into her business. She paused, and reprocessed. In every aspect he had just done her a great favor. She should be thanking him, a thousand times over.

A look of realization must have shown on her face because Dumbledore was smiling with that infernal twinkle in his eyes. He rose to leave. "I am sure Miss Granger will be speaking to you soon, and we must hope Mr. Weasley gets better soon." He walked to the door and paused. "Goodnight Miss Delacour, I am sure we will speak again soon…" And with that said he left.

Fleur looked at the owl that was looking at her with his head cocked. "_Ben…voil__à_."

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The night was calm as Fleur stepped out of the castle. There was hardly any wind, and it was surprisingly warm. The music was welling up inside her again. This time it was joyous, and she too felt joy as she walked out on the dock over the lake. She was reveling in the knowledge that she would be able to talk to Hermione, to give her a hint, perhaps even tell her. But that was a scary thought, and Fleur cautioned herself against being too rash. However, not even that could put a damper on her mood, and she let the music spill without reservation.

She poured into it all of her feelings of longing, lust and desire, her need, her love. It was full of both joy and sorrow, and its beauty was unmatched, even by Fleur who herself was a very picture of loveliness and beauty. Her white golden hair was free and fell about her shoulders, and her eyes were bright as the music poured from her heart.

As the music died from her lips she closed her eyes and sighed, taking a moment to quiet her rapidly beating heart. It was silent again in the night, not a sound could be heard but her own shaky breathing.

She exhaled into the silence. "Hermione…"

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Hermione felt like she was burning. Her whole body felt like it was going to explode. She could feel her pulse throbbing throughout her body. She could see nothing; her vision was blinded by the brightest yellow-white-gold she had ever seen. The rational part of her mind told her she must be dreaming, because the sky was blue not yellow, and it was not possible to be this hot and not be on fire.

Suddenly the light was not only above her, but all around her, falling in silky smooth strands that caressed her body and slipped along her skin. It was then she realized she was naked, but she could not bring herself to care as the silky hair was joined by soft fingers that stroked every inch of her skin. Her senses were overloading, she could still see only bright light but it seemed that every nerve in her body was taught and quivering, jerking at the slightest touch.

In the back of her mind, the part that could still think rationally (and she was ashamed that it was only a very small part) she began to hear something in the distance. Gradually it became louder, and she found herself lost in the music that seemed to flow through her very being. It streamed through her veins and filled her body to the brim, pulsing with every beat of her heart.

The fingers that had been running over her toned stomach paused on her hips, taking time to ghost over her hip bones and dip into the sensitive hollow where her legs joined her body. From there they moved achingly slowly down to her very center which throbbed with need.

Lips that had not been there before moved to her ear whispering in a language that she could not understand, yet somehow it was the most erotic thing she had ever heard. The silky strands of hair tickled around her face and chest, adding to the sensations that surrounded her.

She cried out arching as the tips of fingers began to touch and explore her very sensitive core (which was embarrassingly wet, the ever shrinking rational part of her brain noted). Every touch brought a new eruption of sensations sweeping along her skin, raising goose bumps up and down her spine.

She panted her breath out of control as two fingers poised themselves at her entrance. Slowly they slipped in, sliding easily, filling her completely before beginning to move. She moaned, and squeezed her eyes shut, but was still blinded by the bright light.

She heard the lips by her ear part again, and they breathed in shakily before breathing out.

"Hermione…"

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**Thanks for reading!**

**The French translation for the scene with the owl is basically this: **_**"Ah, Jean-Claude, you're late. Did you bring me a letter? I don't want to play today. Give me the letter. Now. I said now. Damn it Jean-Claude! If you don't give me the letter I'm going to-"**_

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	8. Chapter 8

**Happy Summer everyone! I'm sorry I haven't updated lately, life caught me up and swept me off my feet. **

**Firstly I want to apologize for the awful (and yet so wonderful) place I left you at the end of the last chapter. And secondly I want to just tell you that the time jumps around a bit in this chapter. From the afternoon to the morning to the evening, all in the same day though. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 8

Hermione approached Fleur after the next Charms lesson. Her brown hair looked beautiful and her eyes shone with the light that always resonated from within them. Fleur found herself mesmerized by the girl's face as she gazed into her eyes. "Professor?" Fleur snapped out of her daze.

"Ah, _oui_ Hermione?"

"Professor Dumbledore said he would mention to you that Ron is in the infirmary and can't do his interview. He asked if I would do it instead. So I was wondering if perhaps you were free sometime this afternoon or this evening after dinner." She fell silent, and looked at the ground, shifting her weight from foot to foot waiting for an answer.

"Yes, he has spoken to me about this matter. I hope Ron feels better soon." She could barely contain the insincerity in her voice. "I am free for all of this afternoon if you would like to have tea, or whatever it is you English do, or this evening I am free as well." Fleur responded her eyes transfixed on Hermione's face and she couldn't help thinking. _Je suis toujours libre pour toi... _

"Ok professor, um… I had planned to have tea with Harry, Ginny and Hagrid this afternoon…so this evening would probably work better, if that's ok." She stumbled over her words a bit. "Where should we meet?"

"If you would like, you can come to my rooms instead of coming to my classroom. I have a lovely sitting room that will be far more comfortable than here."

"That sounds great professor. I'll be there after dinner, at seven fifteen."

"_Oui_, Miss Granger, I will be seeing you then." Fleur could not help but watch (stare at) the girl's back (side) as she left the room.

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(Hours Previously, Somewhere in Gryffindor Tower, Specifically the bed of Hermione Granger)

Hermione woke up slowly. She was not woken up by loud noises, or her cat, or anything unnatural. In fact, it seemed it was the sun that had woken her, and when she opened her eyes blearily she had to shut them immediately because she was blinded by the sunlight streaming into the window next to her bed.

She mumbled to herself grumpily as she swung her legs out of bed, her whole body still tingly warm from the dream she had had. Groggily she paused, and the dream came back to her. The warm tingly feeling turned into a blush that slowly spread from her face downwards. With a thump she flopped back onto her bed and groaned.

Rubbing her eyes tiredly she spoke out loud. "I can't believe…again…why do I keep having these dreams…and about her…stupid Ron is in the hospital wing so of course it _has_ to be me..." She sat back up, resigned. "I guess you just have to do what you have to do." She stood and stretched, her short pajama shirt riding up, exposing her toned stomach. "First though, a shower is necessary." She felt the throb of the warmest place in her body, grimaced and made her way to the bathroom.

The day passed extraordinarily quickly for Hermione, and before she knew it she found herself outside of the door to the charms classroom with Harry a few minutes before class started. She took a deep breath as they entered with the rest of the class which was chattering happily about them. Hermione couldn't help but give Fleur a good once over (a couple times over). Her long sheets of white blonde hair fell gracefully over her shoulders. She was half turned, answering the question of another student. Hermione took in her profile. It was strong, fiercely beautiful. The woman was wearing a shirt which was a shade of blue that perfectly brought out her piercing eyes. A black skirt and a grey sweater completed the ensemble.

Hermione took her seat quietly, but beneath her quiet exterior, questions were raging. The logical part of her brain was telling her that she was definitely attracted to Fleur Delacour. She could not reason her way out of that fact. The question was; if she was attracted to Fleur (which was irrefutable) was it just because of her incredible beauty, or perhaps her Veela charm? The little voice in the back of her head told her it could be something more, some deeper connection, but she scoffed at herself and turned her attention (or tried) back to the lecture Fleur was giving the class.

Hermione could not help but notice the little things that Fleur did as she talked. The way she moved her hands animatedly as she talked and explained things to the class, the way she shook her hair back out of her face, almost like a horse tossing its mane. Even when she wasn't looking directly at her professor, the brunette was acutely aware of where she was at all times and what she was doing. In the great hall during breakfast time, in the hallways as they passed was the same. She laughed to herself and thought 'You're turning into a stalker Hermione…' She sighed as the class finished up, staying in her seat until most of the students had left before she got up to approach the blonde and ask about the interview which she was doing for Ron.

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That same evening Fleur Delacour could be found pacing around her sitting room. The tension she was feeling was clearly written on her face as she waited anxiously for Hermione Granger to knock on her door. She didn't know what she was going to say to the girl once the interview began. She could hardly refuse to talk about the Veela, and part of her even wanted to talk about them.

She threw herself down in a chair. Gazing into the roaring fire in the hearth she took a deep breath. As long as she didn't reveal too much, it would be ok. Sighing she looked at the door for at least the hundredth time that evening. She sighed again and ran a hand through her hair, shaking it back away from her face.

She jumped as a knock sounded on the door. "_Entrez_!" she called out, hoping her nerves weren't showing in her voice.

The door opened slowly and Hermione walked in, looking a little intimidated.

"_Bienvenue chez moi._"Fleur smiled. "Come sit down. I know that I promised you before that I won't bite." She could see Hermione pink visibly from the memory of that encounter. The girl sat down in the other armchair before the fire and pulled out a scroll of parchment and a quill. She curled her feet up under her in a way that Fleur found completely adorable. The brunette was still looking a little nervous, and Fleur did not want to be caught in the silence, so she spoke. "Well_ ma cherie_? Shall we begin?"

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**I don't think there was much French in this chapter to worry about, at one point fleur thinks: **_**I am always free for you.**_

**Thanks for reading!**

**Reviews are always appreciated!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello everyone! I hope your Holidays went well. I have been rather busy, and I apologize for the fact that I have not updated this story in a very long time. :( The spring semester is going to start in a few weeks, so I don't know when the next update is going to be, but I have not given up on this story, don't worry. **

**As always, thanks to my beta lily. lover. 17 for all her help!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.**

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Chapter 9

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, I suppose I should begin by asking about the origins of the Veela. Are they an ancient race? How did they come into existence?"

"I believe I mentioned in class that one of the ancestors of the Veela is the Sirens. The other ancestor is the Harpies. You have read something about the Veela in your studies, non? The most noted and talked about fact about Veela is their ability to transform into half human, half bird-like creatures." Fleur paused. "Did you attend the Quiddich World Cup that was the same year as the Triwizard Tournament?" at Hermione's nod she continued "Then you will remember how the Veela mascots there became infuriated before the match and transformed. It is very difficult to control the Veela once they become enraged, and it is very hard for us to control ourselves. However, some Veela who practice can transform themselves without a trigger of emotions."

Hermione made some notes on her scroll. "You're a quarter Veela right? So then your family doesn't belong to a clan?"

"My grand-mère is a full blooded Veela, and she left her clan to be with her mate who was a human man. Her clan now is her family, her children and their numerous children. We come together as a family multiple times a year for ceremonies, but also to just be with our family." Fleur's eyes were fixed on the rug as she thought about her massive extended family; she loved them with all her heart. The corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile at the thought of all of them together.

Hermione couldn't help but notice Fleur's beautiful lips as she smiled softly to herself. Hermione was struck by the soft beauty of the woman before her. She was used to the regal and stately beauty of the Veela, but she found her heart beating faster as she observed the gentle beauty in front of her. In an effort to control herself she replied, "Ah, I understand. Have you ever been to a clan of full blooded Veela?"

Fleur sank into her arm chair and pulled her legs close to her, mimicking Hermione's position. "When I was young, I spent a lot of time with my _grand-m__è__re_ because my parents were busy with work. She took me once to her old clan for the celebration of her niece's mating being complete. I don't remember much, as I was very young. I just remember so much music, and so many women. There was not a single man among them. But as there are no full blooded males that makes sense non?" Fleur smiled a little.

Intrigued, Hermione leaned forward. "Can you tell me anything about any of the rituals of the Veela? You mentioned that there is a mating ritual, but I am assuming there are more."

"Indeed. As I am not a full blood, I don't know how the rituals are traditionally celebrated in a full blood clan. The rituals my family celebrates, while they may be called by the same name, are certainly not the same as the traditional rituals. The Veela are very protective creatures, and the celebrations they hold are among some of their most carefully guarded secrets. I apologize I cannot speak more about them."

"It's ok professor, I have other questions. Is there a hierarchy in Veela society like there is in wizarding society? Are those who are not full blooded treated differently because of it?"

"At this point in time there is not much conflict between those who are full blooded and those who are not. It is my understanding that there once was; when Veela first began mating with humans. Now however it is minimal because of the separation between those who are full blood and in clans and those who are only of partial Veela blood, and whenever there is contact between the two groups it is friendly because we all share the Veela blood, and in a society that has such wariness of magical creatures it is advantageous to be united."

Hermione shifted in her chair, nibbling on the end of her quill. She looked up at Fleur, a question burning in her eyes. "Um, professor, the transformative abilities of the Veela are pretty general knowledge, but not much is written about the power of the Veela's song. Could you tell me more about that?"

Fleur shifted uncomfortably. The girl was beginning to venture into territory that Fleur was not so sure she wanted to go into. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, and then responded slowly. "Ah yes…well. A Veela's song is extraordinarily powerful. It can only affect those without Veela blood. A full Veela can control any human, while those of half or less can only control their mate if he or she is human. The reason a Veela cannot control their mate if he or she is part veela as well is because they would both know of the mating process and they would not need the song and thrall to lure their mate to them. Long ago the Veela used the thrall to control their human mates because a human would not want to willingly be with a Veela. Unfortunately that ability remains intact in these times when love is something that is more valued. Most Veela do not feel right about using their abilities in such a manner anymore…" Fleur trailed off and stared at the fire dancing in the fireplace.

When Fleur looked back up she saw that Hermione's eyes were bright curiosity and genuine interest in eh subject at hand. "Wow professor, it sounds like it would be really interesting to research and write about the changes in Veela morals through time."

Fleur smiled slightly. Hermione's love of knowledge and interest in magical creatures was shining through in her eyes, and the Veela noted that they reflected the light of fire beautifully. "Perhaps in the future you will get a chance to do some research." Fleur responded rather cryptically. "If you would like, I can recommend some reading if you would like to delve further into the subject of the Veela.

"That would be wonderful professor! Thank you so much." Hermione replied enthusiasticly.

Fleur smiled at her exuberance. "_De rien, ma cherie."_ The rest of the evening was spent discussing topics ranging from magical creatures to favorite books. They even talked a little about their families, Hermione starting that vein of the conversation by asking about Jean-Claude. Fleur couldn't help but pull a sour face at the mention of the bird. But she laughed, as she was rather fond of the owl even if she wouldn't admit it. "Jean-Claude and my sister, Gabrielle have very similar personalities. They are both mischievous, always getting up to something, but while Gabrielle knows when to stop, her bird" the word bird was said with distain "does not. Gaby is my baby sister, and of course I worry about her sometimes, but she's very bright…indeed, and I think she will surpass me someday." Fleur smiled fondly at the thought of her sister. "She's always getting into…scrapes I think you call them? And inventing things to aid her in her adventures, a little like Mr. Weasley's brothers, _je crois_."

"She sounds adorable, and also like a giant ball of mischief." Hermione laughed. "I don't have any siblings, sometimes I wish I did though…"

"Perhaps sometime you'll get to meet my little Gabrielle. I'm sure she'll like you very much." Fleur chuckled to herself.

"You think so?"

_"Bah oui, bien s__ûr. _ There is much to like about you Hermione." Fleur looked up at Hermione through her long eyelashes, gauging the other girl's response. To her delight the girl flushed as she fidgeted with her tea cup.

"Um, thank you professor." She blushed some more. "I really should be going, it is getting late. Thank you so much for talking with me, I'll be sure to pass this on to Ron." 'After I write it up neatly in big print so he can read it,' she thought wryly. 'And perhaps a little editing is in order…I don't know if he needs to know about some of this stuff, and besides…I might want to look at it again.' She stood to leave, the French woman standing with her.

"Perhaps…if you are still curious about the Veela and their culture we could meet again…?" Fleur suggested. She hoped her nerves were concealed as she continued. "Over tea some afternoon or f you prefer we could meet here?" She threw in a little bait. "I could give you those books I mentioned earlier. I'm afraid that there are still things I have not yet unpacked and I need a little time to find them." She noticed that Hermione's ears perked up at the mention of the books.

Hermione couldn't help but be interested at the word 'books'. They were one of her weaknesses. "That sounds lovely Professor. I need to figure some things out in my schedule, but I will let you know soon when I'm free." She frowned slightly at herself for needing basically no persuasion. She noted a little irritably that she probably would have agreed even if books hadn't been mentioned.

Fleur smiled delightedly. "I'm so glad." She approached the still standing brunette. "I expect to hear from you in the near future." The Veela wasn't sure if that was a slight threat or not. She dismissed the thought. "I will see you in class Miss Granger." She found herself leaning in unintentionally; the girl's very presence was extraordinarily enticing. Realizing this, she decided to just let it happen. Softly, she gave the girl_ 'bisous_' in the French style. But somehow it was so much more than just a cultural custom. "_Bonne nuit._"

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**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello All! I finally bring you chapter 10 of Unheard Music! I am sorry it has been so so long since I updated. I have absolutely no excuse. But I just updated right? Ah well. I hope you enjoy!**

**As always, thanks to my beta for all her help!  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.**

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Chapter 10

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Winter break had begun, and like every year, Hermione was passing the majority of that time at the Weasley's Burrow. However, instead of socializing as much as she usually did, she was staying holed up in her room (on Christmas Eve!) with large books concerning Veela.

Fleur had kept true to her word. When the two had met for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks before break Fleur had brought quite a few books for Hermione's perusal. Their little rendez-vous had been rather uneventful. Hermione was rather glad for that. She found that she found herself not acting quite like her normal confident self around the Veela. It was rather disorienting. And of course the French woman had insisted on kissing her goodbye in the French fashion again.

The brunette felt heat rise to her cheeks at the thought of how soft and warm the Veela's breath had been next to her ear when their cheeks were touching. Hermione frowned. Stupid Veela and their stupid charms. She went back to her book. She had read almost all of the books Fleur gave her, with only half of one remaining. The thing was; she had one more book to read after that. A book she had not received from the Charms teacher.

Hermione had been on her way out of the castle with Harry and Ron to head to carriages that would take them to the train.

* * *

_As Hermione, Ron and Harry stepped into the main courtyard of the castle, they saw Professor Dumbledore giving his holiday regards to students as they left for the holidays. _

_ "That's odd" remarked Harry, "He doesn't usually come out and talk to us before we go home." _

_ "Yeah mate," agreed Ron "totally weird." _

_Hermione rolled her eyes. Dumbledore would do whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted to. They had seen that plenty of times. She regarded his presence there as nothing out of the ordinary. However as they were passing, he stopped them._

_ "Miss Granger, can I have a word with you please?" his eyes were twinkling, and Hermione could feel in her bones that he was up to no good. _

_ "Sure thing Professor." She responded. "Harry, Ron, wait would you?" The two boys nodded and set their trunks down out of the way and stood talking. _

_ "Miss Granger, I hope that you have the best of holidays this December. I hear you're going to be doing some research?" he inquired innocently. "I found in my possession a book recently that I think will help you out quite a bit. I am most certain Professor Delacour did not give you this one." _

_ Hermione's eyebrows rose at his mention of the Veela. How did he know? She paused for a moment. He was Dumbledore, and he had his ways. She sighed. _

_ Dumbledore for his part looked like he knew exactly what was going on in her head. "Yes yes." He fished in his robes and pulled out a small leather bound book with a blank cover. "I suggest you read the books Professor Delacour gave you first before you open this one." He chuckled to himself. "Alright now, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley look like they're getting impatient. We can't have that now can we?" he chuckled again. "Run along now Miss Granger. Have an excellent break!" and he swept off, back into the castle. _

_ Hermione looked after him, a little stunned. The man could be very odd, and very irritating sometimes. She shrugged though, and put the little book into her bag. She walked back over to Harry and Ron, who immediately picked up their suit cases and they started walking out of the castle once more. _

_ "What did the old geezer want?" asked Ron. _

_ "Oh nothing." replied Hermione. _

_ Ron shrugged, but didn't ask any more questions._

* * *

Hermione sighed and returned to her reading.

By the time she finished the book, it had gotten dark outside. Ginny came in moments later, cheeks red from the cold outside, and dripping with snow. She laughed, and said to Hermione, "Mione, you've been reading all day! And you missed an absolutely marvelous snowball fight. Fred and George beat everyone!"

Hermione smiled and laughed along with the red head. But really all she wanted to do was finally open the book Dumbledore had given her. Ginny however had different plans. She talked to Hermione until dinner, and when Mrs. Weasley's voice called up the stairs announcing dinner, Ginny jumped up. "Come on, I'm famished." And she bolted out of the room.

Hermione got up slowly, and checked to make sure Ginny wasn't coming back in. She pulled out the little book from her bag. She couldn't help herself. She had to look at the title page at least. She brushed her hand over the cover, getting a feel for the small, old book. She opened the cover, and her eyes fell on the title, which was embellished with large swirls and loops in the cursive. Her eyes became wide as she read the title, her cheeks pink.

**A Human's Guide to Veela Love**

Her mind raced. Why had Dumbledore given her this book? True, she had wondered if maybe she was feeling the effects of the Veela's thrall for some time…but she was not entirely sure if she wanted, or was ready to hear what Dumbledore intended her to learn from this book.

She started at the sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice again coming from the bottom of the stairs. She hastily put the bag back in her bag, to be saved for after dinner. If she was lucky and Ginny didn't insist upon doing something with the family then. She took a breath. If that was case, the book would have to wait until the next day. And with that thought, she began descending the stairs to join the rest of the family for dinner.

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**Reviews are always appreciated! Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Happy August everyone! I can't believe the summer is almost over, and its almost time to go back to school. I had hoped I would update this more often this summer, but it didn't really go as I had planned. I'm also just amazed at how many reviews this story has gotten! You all have been so supportive and it makes me happy that everyone is enjoying Unheard Music. :)  
**

**In any event, here is Chapter 11. As always my french is awful, so if any native speakers happen to read this and have corrections, I would love to hear from you. Thanks! I hope you enjoy!**

**As always thanks to my beta!  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.  
**

* * *

Chapter 11

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Sunlight streamed through the window and onto one sleepy Veela's bed Christmas morning. It hit her face, and her hair glimmered in the light making a halo around her head. Her forehead wrinkled slightly and she turned in her sleep, murmuring quietly.

The silence was broken with a shriek as a large figure jumped onto the sleeping girl's bed, and chaos ensued. Blankets and pillows were thrown everywhere, limbs all over the place, and when the scene finally calmed down, a small blonde haired girl had successful woken up Fleur.

Fleur groaned and threw a hand over her face to shield her eyes from the sun. "_Gabby, qu'est-ce que tu fait? Quelle heure est-il?_" (1)

"_Il est deja onze heures! (2) _Wake up! We have presents!" Gabrielle giggled and bounced up and down on the bed. She sprung off of the bed after a few seconds and practically ran out of the room, her call of "Hurry up!" following her out.

Fleur groaned, but got up. She put a robe on over her pajamas and threw her hair up in a lazy bun. She groaned and put a hand to her head, which was pounding slightly and walked into the living room, where her family sat waiting. "Good morning…"

"Good morning _ma cherie_, _est-ce que tu veux un caf__é?" (3)_ Apolline Delacour asked her daughter.

She was a striking woman, regal and beautiful like her two daughters, but her features were harder, and that gave her the appearance of being unfriendly when really the opposite was the case. She was one of the friendliest, and warmest women Fleur had ever encountered, even though she knew she was a little biased considering the woman was her mother. Her father sat sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on one of the armrests. He was a thin man; his blond hair was graying, giving it a sort of shining appearance, like the sun was constantly hitting it. His face was beginning to show signs of aging but he would still be considered very handsome.

Fleur turned to her mother "_Oui maman, merci._" and she followed the older woman into the kitchen. "Maybe this coffee will help my headache…"she mumbled.

"_Ca va ma cherie?_" (4) asked Apolline.

"Yes, I think so…" was the answer "I'm not really feeling very well this morning." Even as she spoke she felt worse by the second. 'What is happening?' she thought to herself. Her mother was now regarding her with a very intent and concerned look in her eyes.

"Fleur…" she started but cut off abruptly with a sharp scream as her daughter collapsed on the countertop.

* * *

1 a.m. Christmas Morning: the Burrow

* * *

Hermione turned the last page of the book Dumbledore had given her, and closed the worn cover softly.

_Upon returning to her room after dinner, she had tried to go to bed. She closed her eyes but she just could not fall asleep. She knew Ginny was asleep from her breathing, but Hermione could not help but think about the small brown book under her bed. Why had Dumbledore given her that book? She had a sneaking suspicion, but she did not want to believe it. Or perhaps she did? She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't. But she had to find out, and the only way to know for sure was to read the book. Quietly she retrieved it from under her bed, lit the end of her wand and started turning the pages. _

When she was finished she book, she was too tired to process the information she had just absorbed. And the next morning she was woken up quite early by the twins who for some reason insisted upon waking up early even though they were no longer children. Her quiet state went unnoticed by the raucous Weasley family as they opened presents and as they ate breakfast. It was only a little before 11 that she finally got a moment to herself to think.

Alone in her room, Hermione stood at the window, looking out at the snow covered fields that sprawled along the country side. Somewhere far across those hills a Veela was still in bed, sound asleep. She flushed at the thought of that woman. She knew why Dumbledore had given her that book. She was not considered one of the smartest witches in her year for nothing after all.

The reason for her unexplainable attraction to the charming Charms professor was now explained. According to that book, she was forever and irreversibly connected to Fleur. And there was nothing she could do about it.

She gripped the window sill, her knuckles white. The lack of control in the situation took her breath away. The future that she thought was wide open had suddenly vanished. Sure, her career was still up to her, but the one thing that most people spend their entire lives searching for, a life partner, a mate, had been already decided for her. Why her? The tears of defeat that had been held back for hours began to well up at the corners of her eyes, only to be wiped away angrily.

She couldn't accept this. It wasn't that she disliked the Veela woman; it was that she disliked the situation. As much as her heart was secretly pulling, wishing wanting, she pushed it away. The pain of it all was ignored. Staring blankly out of the window, Hermione made up her mind to avoid her destined made upon her return to Hogwarts.

* * *

The Delacour Household, Shortly after Fleur's Collapse

* * *

Fleur came to complete consciousness lying on the couch; her parents hovering worriedly above her. Apolline gasped when she saw her daughter was awake and knelt clasping Fleur's clammy hands in her own, murmuring her thanks. Fleur sat up shakily. "_Que c'est-il passé?_" (5)

"I don't know my sweet, but your _grand-mère_ is on her way right now. I'm sure she will know what is wrong." The older woman comforted her daughter. At that very moment the family matriarch made her appearance. She was a very imposing woman: regal and upright, with a commanding air that was detectable from a great distance away.

"_Elle est ou?_" she demanded. Upon catching a glimpse of her granddaughter she moved to her side, easily taking control of the situation. "Hm…" she breathed out. "Yes….I've seen this before. Look at me Fleur." Fleur brought her eyes to look into her Grandmother's bright blue eyes. They were extraordinarily clear and Fleur knew that much knowledge was contained within them. "I'm afraid that the road ahead of you is going to be bumpy for a while, _ma cherie_." She smoothed back the hair from the young woman's forehead. "Not impossible, merely difficult.

"You are perfectly fine now, a little shaky perhaps but perfectly capable of going about as normal. You know that you share an invisible, yet strong bond with your chosen mate, yes?" Fleur nodded. "Sometimes, strong emotions are passed along that tie, the good resulting in a sudden surge of joy, the bad often in sickness. I think I am correct in saying that that is what has just occurred. While I do not know the exact nature of the situation, judging from the severity of this instance, something important has happened in feelings of your mate." The older woman sighed. Turning to her daughter she said, "I will contact Albus Dumbledore about this, for I am sure he has answers. She is fine for the time being, just keep an eye on her until her return to that school. I will see you all soon." and with that she swept out the door.

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**Here are the french translations: 1. "_Gabby, what are you doing? What time is it?" 2. "Its already 11 o clock!" 3. "do you want a coffee?" 4. "Are you ok?" 5. "What happened?"_**

**Thanks for reading! Leave a review if you have the time, they are always appreciated! **


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello everyone! I can't believe I'm posting another chapter this soon, but I realized that Unheard Music has over 200 reviews! I'm amazed. And so thankful for all of you readers. So as a gift I'm posting this chapter early, and its much longer than my usual ones. Hooray! While writing this chapter (and the next) I listened to the newest album from one of my favorite artists ever, Missy Higgins. Shes amazing and I thought some of her lyrics were perfect for this chapter, and the next one too.  
**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.  
**

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_Melody you're the only one who saves me  
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_Out of the cold you take me (set me on fire)  
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_Save me (set me on fire)  
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_Melody, all I want is to remember  
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_What came before this winter (set me on fire)  
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_Save me, set me on fire  
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_-Missy Higgins, Set me on Fire  
_

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Chapter 12

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Three weeks had passed since the students and professors had returned to Hogwarts, it was almost Valentines Day, and Fleur was feeling frustrated and worried. Hermione had not spoken to her except when answering questions in class since they had returned. The books the brown haired girl had borrowed were returned to her room by some unknown source, but she suspected owl or cat. The girl had not even left a note with them.

Not only was Fleur feeling stressed out and worried; that stress was beginning to show visibly. Dark circles were developing under her eyes, and her hands shook slightly when she held them out in front of her, even when she tried to keep them as still as possible. When asked, she accredited it all to lack of sleep, which was probably part of the problem since she was sleeping very little, and any sleep she did get was restless. Not even singing could help relieve her pain. When she tried, the music just would not come out.

The Veela sighed in frustration and glanced at her watch. Her next class was about to begin, both her favorite and least favorite group of students. It was her seventh year class of Gryffindors, which of course meant that Hermione was going to be there. Fleur dreaded the thought of seeing her chosen mate and being completely ignored. It was tortuous to have to girl right within her reach, but to be unable to even have a conversation with her. The blonde haired woman let out a deep breath. As students began to wander into the classroom, she put on her mask of "perfectly fine" and rose to begin the class session.

The class dragged on slowly for Fleur, the icy look that had been in Hermione's eyes since the start of the term lingered in the side of Fleur's vision, tempting her to look, but leaving her feeling emptier than before. When it was finally over, she turned to her desk to clear it and organize for her evening work as the students started to slowly filter out of the classroom. The blonde haired woman clenched her fists on her desk, nearly to the point of tears as she thought about Hermione. The girl was still in the room, waiting for Ron to pack up with Harry. Fleur could feel her presence behind her.

Suddenly a single high note erupted from her throat, unbidden, and a hand flew up to her mouth to stifle the sound. However, the remaining students in the room had heard it, and while they had not connected the source to Fleur, she could feel the heat rising to her face at their murmurings of "Blimey!" and "What was that?". She continued to flutter aimlessly around her desk, straightening this, moving that, until the room was fully empty before she turned around and collapsed sitting on the desk. She let out a long sigh and lifted her eyes to look around the room, only to find Hermione standing there.

* * *

_Hermione rolled her eyes as she waited for Ron to pack up his stuff after the class, impatient to get out of the room and back to her dormitory. She tapped her foot as she stood there; Ron was taking an extra long time to gather his things. But when a single high pitched note filled the air all thoughts left her head and her foot stopped its incessant tapping. _

_ Ron's head shot up and he looked around. "Blimey, what was that?" he slung his bag over his shoulder. _

_ "Beats me mate." replied Harry as he shrugged and ran a hand through his mess y hair. "Probably Peeves up to no good. Ready to go 'Mione?" _

_ The brown haired girl looked at him with vacant eyes. "I'll catch up to you; I need to talk to professor Delacour." She said in an unusually flat voice. "I'll meet you at dinner."_

_ Harry looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "Are you sure Hermione? I though you wanted to get some work done before dinner." _

_ "No, I will catch up to you." She said more firmly. _

_ Harry paused to scrutinize her once more before he walked out of the room. "Ok, we'll see you later." And he and Ron left. _

* * *

Fleur gasped in surprise when she realized she was not alone in her classroom. Hermione, the girl she needed, was standing in front of her; motionless. The Veela stared into her brown eyes as she moved forward, her feet carrying her towards the still figure of Hermione.

As she came within arm's reach of the girl she paused and really looked at her. She had never had the time to look at the Gryffindor up this close she realized, even though she knew she was destined to be with this girl, no this woman, for the rest of her life. The light filtered in through the tall windows as it began to fade into the dusk. Fleur could almost feel the magic of the moment, both literally and figuratively as she stared at the still motionless figure of Hermione Granger.

The Veela took a step closer to the brunette, and smiled a small smile as she realized she was the taller of the two, even though it was only slightly. It pained her that she had never even gotten a chance to realize that until this moment. She lifted a hand hesitantly, pausing, but finally tracing the jaw line of the girl in front of her with her finger tips, running the pad of her thumb over Hermione's full pink lips.

Subconsciously Fleur licked her own lips, wondering how Hermione's would feel against her own. Fleur shivered, as goose bumps ran up her spine, and she could feel the change under her skin, as a primal force began to take hold of her body. '_Non! Je ne peut pas_!" she screamed at herself, but she couldn't hold herself back. Her suppressed need for the female in front of her bubbled to the surface, and the Veela felt her control evaporate with each passing second. She tried to wrestle it back, but she could feel herself slipping out of her grasp. As she lost control her eyes changed from blue to white to light yellow, and her pupils elongated, becoming hawk like. Her hands balled into fists, and opened looking more like claws than hands.

Fleur now stepped so close to the statuesque girl that their chests were almost touching. She leaned in close to the girl's neck and inhaled her scent, her eyes closed in ecstasy. She pulled back and looked right into Hermione's blank eyes. When she spoke, it was in the ancient tongue of the Veela. "Look at you….standing here. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen, so mysterious, so intriguing…" her voice came out laced with spite "but you won't look at me. You won't talk to me. You know you are mine, you must. I can feel it." She brought her hand up to the shorter girl's chest and placed it just above her heart. "Why can't you see that I love you? Do you even know what is meant to be?" The Veela snarled and clenched her hand, bunching the fabric of Hermione's shirt. "I could take you right here…and make you mine. Your will is mine." A smile started with an upward curl of one side of her mouth. "We were given the power to control you, our mates for this very reason…"

Before the Veela could continue any further the door of the room was blown wide open and the magnificent and powerful form of Albus Dumbledore loomed in the door frame. "Fleur stop!" The command echoed with power and the Veela gasped and shrank back her eyes immediately reverting to their normal bright blue color. She felt suddenly queasy and slumped against her desk, too weak to hold herself up. "What are you doing?" Dumbledore's electric eyes were blazing. "You know you are better than this."

His dismissal hurt more than Fleur wanted to admit. She hung her head in acknowledgment of his words.

Dumbledore softened. "I'm sorry Fleur, but I need to take Ms. Granger to the Hospital wing." The girl had been caught by the old man when she was released from Fleur's thrall and upon further inspection, Fleur saw that she was unconscious. "I will have Professor McGonagall bring you to your rooms and provide you with anything you should need. I will speak with you soon." On queue Professor McGonagall appeared at his elbow.

"Good lord…" she gasped, taking in the situation.

"Minerva, could you please take Professor Delacour to her rooms?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why yes of course." And she went to the desk and took one of Fleur's arms, steadying her as they left the room.

With surprising strength for an old man, Dumbledore lifted Hermione in his arms and followed them out, before turning in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

* * *

Later that Night

* * *

Hermione blinked her eyes groggily as she came to her senses. Upon realizing that she was not in her own bed she looked around in confusing, and was greeted by the sight of Madame Pomfrey bustling over to her bed.

"Ah deary, I'm glad to see you're awake. The headmaster will be glad too. He wants to see you in his office as soon as you're able." She spoke kindly as she felt the brown haired girl's pulse. "and I'd say you're as good as new my dear. Off you go now." And Hermione found herself being shooed out of the room.

It was dark in the castle as Hermione walked down a vacant corridor; and she guessed that it was quite late in the evening. Making her way to Dumbledore's office took a good five minutes and to occupy her mind she thought about the bizarre afternoon. She could not remember much of it, only that she had been ready to leave for dinner with Harry and Ron, and then suddenly she had been in the hospital wing. She frowned trying to remember more, but the only thing she could remember was one loud note that seemed to reverberate throughout her entire body; and then nothing. Her frown deepened as she pushed to remember more, knowing that something was there, moving at the edge of her consciousness just out of her reach. In one violent rush, the words of a language she could not understand flowed through her head, twisting and swirling through her thoughts, through her entire being. Gasping she leaned against the stone wall of the corridor, her forehead pressed against the cold stone.

Hermione's head felt fuzzy as she tried to remember more, but all she could see were a pair of yellow, bird-like eyes staring into her soul, and mesmerizing lips moving in the language that gave her goose bumps even from memory. She realized who the eyes belonged to easily, and everything else fell into place. She groaned. She had a sinking suspicion she knew exactly what Dumbledore was going to say to her in his office. She started walking again. For someone so mysterious he was strangely predictable. She smiled slightly at the thought as she neared the gargoyle that guarded his office.

"Miss Granger, I was wondering how you were doing. What a coincidence to see you here."

Hermione started at the sound of Dumbledore's voice. She turned to see him practically gliding towards her without a sound. Somehow, she guessed that it was hardly a coincidence at all that they were both going to his office and had met outside of it. In fact, she realized she did not know his current password. She was unsure how she would have gotten in without it. She shook her head and snorted under her breath. She was sure Dumbledore knew that and had planned to meet her at this spot from the start. What a crazy old man. She wondered vaguely if he had trackers on all the students and teachers so he could appear wherever they happened to be any time he wanted. She dismissed the idea for its very ridiculousness. He wouldn't or couldn't do that…could he?

Dumbledore's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Shall we go up?" They had reached his gargoyle guardian. Hermione nodded and he spoke the password. "Tootsie Pop."

Hermione stared. "Professor…isn't that a muggle candy?" she asked. She had in fact loved them as a child.

"Why yes, indeed it is." He looked a little surprised she had said anything. "I suppose you would know about Tootsie Pops…" he mused. "This past Christmas vacation I happened to stop in a muggle store on one of the days I was not at the castle and sampled one. I found it very satisfactory." His eyes twinkled.

By this time they had entered his office and Dumbledore moved behind his desk and sat down. He motioned for the young witch to sit down in the chair in front of him. She did so, but felt herself shrink back a little as she saw the book that sat between them on his desk. It was a small leather bound book with no writing on the cover. But she knew exactly what was inside it. She had read it numerous times over the Holidays.

"Indeed…" Dumbledore said cryptically. He looked at Hermione with his piercing eyes and she shifted under them uncomfortably. "I realize now Miss Granger, that giving you this book was very likely not one of my better ideas, however, we cannot change that now. I should have talked to you in person, or perhaps let things play out naturally. In any case, you must realize now that you and Fleur Delacour are destined to mate for life." Hermione cringed in her chair. "The idea is not very pleasing to you I see." observed the old man.

"I'm sorry Professor. I just cannot accept that what you're saying is true. I don't have anything against professor Delacour, nor against those who choose same sex partners." She was sitting up straight in her chair, her eyes bright as she continued "but some of the things that book talks about….are just unnatural. Besides, there is no way Professor Delacour and I are destined to be mates."

Dumbledore listened to her patiently, waiting for her to finish. "I'm afraid my dear, that you and Miss Delacour are destined to be together for the rest of your lives." He spoke kindly, gently. "I think if you gave it a chance, if you really thought about it, that you would find that you feel more than you realize about Miss Delacour."

"I…no…I can't." Tears were rolling down the girl's cheeks as she spoke, defeated. "This is my choice; I can't be forced to choose someone I didn't choose myself. It's not fair Professor." Angrily she wiped the tears from her face, and looked at Dumbledore defiantly.

"I know that it is hard to understand Miss Granger…but from the very little I know about the Veela, I can assure you that incompatible people to do not become destined mates. A Veela's chosen one will not be someone will not be happy with. It is very complex, and I am not sure even the Veela themselves understand how it their mates are chosen. Instinct perhaps…" He trailed off, lost in the train of thought. Hermione herself was thinking about the easy natural chemistry she had felt with Fleur when they had met before the holidays.

Dumbledore sighed and handed Hermione a tissue before standing and petting Fawkes who was on his perch cooing softly. "I implore you Hermione," the girl startled at the use of her first name. "give Miss Delacour a chance. You are excused from charms classes until next week to think about everything. As you know, there is a Valentine's Day trip to Hogsmeade this coming weekend and I think it would be best if you stayed at the castle. Perhaps you can even talk to Professor Delacour. But for now, you must be off to bed, it is very late."

Hermione stood a little shakily. "Thank you professor…I'll do my best to think about what you've said. Goodnight." She turned to leave.

"Goodnight Miss Granger."

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**Thank you so much for reading! As always your reviews are much appreciated :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Happy New Year everyone! I hope everyone survived the end of the world and is ready to start 2013 on a good note! Coincidentally, things get better for our two favorite witches from here on out. Mostly of course. You will just have to read and see. **

**As always, sorry for the long wait. College takes up a lot of time...  
**

**Enjoy!  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.  
**

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Chapter 13

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The week leading up to Valentine's Day weekend dragged along slowly for Fleur. She only saw Hermione at a distance during meal times as the girl had been excused from her class for the week. When Saturday finally arrived she was relieved. The students were heading off to Hogsmeade for the day, which meant that Fleur could sing. Since the incident earlier in the week, she had been aching to sing; the music had suddenly returned and was threatening to bubble up and out.

After her lunch, she decided to go out onto the grounds and down to the lake. It had snowed the day before, covering everything in a thick layer of white. She slipped on a thick pair of winter boots, a jacket, a scarf, mittens and finally a pair of ear muffs. She made her way out of the castle slowly, enjoying the sting of the cold air on her face and in her lungs. She pulled the scarf around her neck and chin tightly to keep out the chill. In a matter of minutes she had reached the dock and she made her way out to the very end. Using her wand she cleared a place in the snow at the end and conjured a very thick blanket to sit on. She dangled her legs over the edge, swinging them above the ice that covered the lake.

She was a little scared to let her voice out, after what had happened the last time. She knew the fear was foolish, she knew she could control that part of her. Or at least she had thought…she banished that voice of doubt. She trusted herself, and she trusted Dumbledore who had comforted her and told her to believe in herself, and in destiny. It all sounded a little ridiculous to her, but she trusted the old man, for all of his meddling.

* * *

After Professor McGonagall had left Fleur in her Room, Some Nights Before

* * *

_Fleur threw herself into one of her armchairs as she let the tears fall freely from her eyes. Her whole body was wracked with convulsions as she sobbed. She wanted to just release all of the pain, throw it away, do something to let it all go. The idea of punching something was very tempting to her, in her state of mind. She couldn't believe what she had done. She had lost all control of her Veela, let all of that primal energy consume her and control her. She was better than that and she knew it. _

_A knock sounded on her door, but she didn't even bother looking up. _

_The door clicked open and in walked Albus Dumbledore. Fleur snarled. She knew this man was somehow responsible for Hermione's sudden change in her actions towards Fleur. _

_At her snarl the old man chuckled. "Your grandmother gave me a similar greeting when she came to visit me the day after Christmas. I'm afraid you have a ways to go young one." He smiled jovially. _

_Even in her anger Fleur couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought of the matriarch of her family. _

"_She of course hasn't changed since I saw her last; she is still the spitfire she always was." He smiled fondly. "She came to me because she was worried about your collapse on Christmas day." His eyes lost their humor and became serious. "I must confess I am to blame for the situation we are in right now. I gave Miss Granger a little extra reading material over the holidays. You may have heard of it, _A Human's Guide to Veela Love_?"_

_Fleur's blazing eyes shot up to look at man who was still standing just inside the closed door. She gaped at him. "You gave her THAT?" she screeched. "That is one of the rarest and most dangerous books written about Veela…how could you? If you have it in your possession you must have read it…then you know everything it says. It bares all of our secrets." Her eyes were cold and accusing as she stared at Dumbledore. "There is no way she could ever love me now." _

"_Yes my dear, I do know…I know very well what that book says. I am truly sorry." He looked so apologetic and sincere at the same time that Fleur felt her heart soften towards him. "I am taking it upon myself to talk to Miss Granger as soon as she awakens. I hope to change her mind, or at least make her think about her situation." Fleur looked at him skeptically. Seeing this, Dumbledore continued. "I give you my word Miss Delacour." _

_Fleur sighed and sank into her chair. She didn't know if he would be able to help, but she had no other choice. Dumbledore kneeled in front of her and took her hand looking her straight in the eye. "Do not give up Fleur; the cards are in your favor. You must believe me." The Veela nodded slowly and Dumbledore stood. "I will see you soon Miss Delacour." And he swept out of the room._

* * *

Fleur breathed out, the hot air misting into little clouds in front of her. She smiled and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly, watching it float gracefully upwards before disappearing.

She started singing, a quiet lullaby her mother had sung to her when she was a child. The tune was lilting and comforting, helping to soothe her (metaphorically) ruffled feathers. The tune changed, dancing into a song of celebration that flew from her lips louder now. It was sung during the height of summer when the days were the longest, and when the family would gather for the festival of the summer solstice. As the melody floated and began to fade, she began another song; an old story of sorts that told of the Veelas' rich history. Somehow, naturally, (fittingly she realized) this song flowed smoothly into an ancient tale of a young Veela who had bonded with a human. The song was a sad one, for the Veela refused to bend the human to her will, and it ended with her death. When this song ended no more music came and Fleur sighed, her heart sad at the reminder of her own troubles. She wondered how the Veela in the song had died; the song didn't specify. Her musings were cut short by a voice behind her.

"Professor Delacour?"

Fleur turned and was awestruck by the sight of the girl her heart desired. Hermione's checks were pink from the chill, even though she was bundled up tightly. Her rambunctious waves of hair flowed out from under a cap, and she stood nervously a slight distance behind Fleur on the dock.

"I…somehow heard you singing from inside the castle. I knew it had to be you. I'm sorry if I interrupted you." Hermione was tentative, nervous.

"No, it's…it's fine. You didn't interrupt me at all." Fleur paused. "Um…sit?" she moved over so there was room on the blanket next to her.

"Thanks…" Hermione sat carefully, making sure not to get snow on her seat. It was obvious to Fleur that she was still nervous. She was very stiff in her movements, and her hands were clenched together in her lap. She also would not meet the Veela's eyes. Fleur opened her mouth to say something, without any idea what, but the Gryffindor beat her to it. "Professor…I'm really sorry about…" she stopped, thinking about what she was going to say. "I mean, I think I was just surprised, and…" she stopped again trying to get the right words out. "What I'm trying to say is that I think I made my decision prematurely…I think there is something here. I've always been drawn to you…inexplicably. I thought it was me idolizing you because you're an amazingly talented witch but…I'm not so sure anymore."

Fleur could not believe her ears. Her heart was pounding, trying to get out of her body and just soar. So many emotions were flying around inside of her, hope, excitement, fear, she wanted to burst out and fly herself from joy, but she waited patiently for the girl to finish, keeping her face neutral and attentive.

"I guess I want to give us a try? I mean we're destined or something like that" the brunette tried to joke, make it seem like a small minor thing. "I don't know. I'm just so nervous about even talking about this, after reading that book, there are some things that just…" she stopped talking and Fleur jumped in.

"Hermione." She spoke the name quietly but firmly with the French lilt in her voice that the younger witch realized she enjoyed. "I understand what you are trying to say…and I…I too feel many of the emotions you are feeling. I want to give this a try too." as she said it, she knew that for her it wasn't 'giving them a try' it was her entire life's happiness on the line. But she couldn't say that to the girl who had been on the brink of turning away from her forever. "We can start out slow. Do you want to get tea in Hogsmeade tomorrow? Or next weekend? Whenever you are free I can be." Who was she kidding; she was at the complete mercy of this young woman. She hoped her desperation didn't show.

For the first time in more than a month Fleur saw the brunette smile. It filled her with so much joy, she was almost bursting. "That sounds nice Professor-"

"No, you must call me Fleur. Please…"

"Um…Fleur," the name felt weird, yet pleasant on Hermione's tongue. "next weekend sounds good. I have to study tomorrow; we have a big transfiguration test on Monday." She got up to leave, and Fleur turned her body to look at her.

Fleur smiled at the girl. "I will see you in class then Mademoiselle Granger."

Hermione smiled again and touched the fingertips of her gloved hands to the Veela's shoulder. "Of course, Professor." With that, she began her trek back up to the castle.

When she was out of sight, Fleur flopped backwards, not caring at all that snow was getting in her hair and making her jacket wet. She laughed out loud to herself, not caring if anyone heard. She could have floated all the way up into the sky she was so happy. Her whole world was suddenly transformed. She felt happy for the first time in a month.

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**Thank you for reading! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Are you dreaming? Or am I really updating? Sorry to make you all wait so long, I can't believe it's been about year since I last posted a chapter. . I know I hate when stories I'm reading get discontinued, so I'm going to do my best to update more frequently. But I do intend to see this story to the end. Even if it takes a long time...**

**Things start to heat up in this chapter, hooray! I figured 14 chapters was enough time to wait. lol. **

**I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story. **

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One step at a time, there's no need to rush  
It's like learning to fly or falling in love  
It's gonna happen when it's supposed to happen  
That we find the reasons why, one step at a time

Jordin Sparks- One Step at a Time

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Chapter 14

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Hermione sat in the library studying late the Wednesday after her date with Fleur. To her surprise it had gone wonderfully. Fleur was charming and sweet and intelligent. The two had talked for hours over their tea, and afterwards they had gone for a walk through the village, which was picturesque covered in snow. It had all around been a pleasant afternoon for the young Gryffindor, and she couldn't deny now that there was a connection between herself and the attractive Veela. In fact, Hermione had had trouble not noticing how beautiful the woman was. She didn't know if it was the knowledge that she was supposed to be attracted to Fleur that made her notice, or perhaps her denial had clouded her eyes.

They had set up a second date at the end of their first. Hermione had confessed to the blonde haired woman that she had indeed had a wonderful time, and the older woman had practically radiated relief and happiness. The second date was set to be similar to the first, another peaceful afternoon in Hogsmeade. Hermione realized, as she jotted down some notes on a piece of parchment, that she was quite looking forward to it.

* * *

That Friday after charms class ended Fleur called Hermione to her desk. "Mademoiselle Granger, a word please?"

Hermione approached her desk curious. It was unusual for Fleur to talk to her after class. "Yes Professor?"

Fleur spoke in a lowered voice. "I'm so sorry Hermione, but I 'ave to cancel tomorrow. I completely forgot but I promised my mother that I would go home to visit my parents this weekend. I 'ave to leave early tomorrow morning." The Veela looked distraught. "I wish…this might not work but is there any chance you are free tonight? We could still have tea, if you don't mind having it in my chambers…"

"That sounds fine Professor. I will see you tonight?"

Fleur smiled in relief. "_Oui_, eight o clock?"

"I'll be there."

* * *

Fleur occupied herself between the hours of seven and eight by transforming her sitting room into a cozy setting. She replaced her two armchairs with a small sofa (a love seat) and she dimmed the lights so that the flickering fire cast a pleasant glow over the whole room. She prepared a pot of tea with two cups on a tray, and set it on the small table next to the sofa. Finally she lit a lightly scented candle and placed it on the mantle of the fireplace. Its sweet smell slowly filled the room, adding the final touch to the ambiance.

As the clock began to chime eight, there was a quiet knock on her door. She rose from the sofa where she had been reading the same page for a good fifteen minutes as she waited for Hermione's arrival. She swept to the door, and shook back her hair from her face before turning the door handle. Hermione stood there, fidgeting a little as she waited. Fleur drank in her appearance. The brown hair she loved fell in soft waves around the girl's shoulders and face, framing her features perfectly. She wore a pair of dark jeans, a simple shirt covered by a forest green blazer for warmth. The look was simple, clean, and Fleur thought, absolutely adorable.

"_Bon soir,_ Hermione." The Veela smiled as she welcomed the other girl into the room. She motioned for the brunette to take a seat on the couch, and poured her a cup of tea before settling down next to her. "How are you? Would you like any sugar or milk?"

"Um, no thanks professor. I am well. And you?" Hermione blew on her tea to cool it.

Still smiling softly Fleur answered. "Please, you must call me Fleur. I am quite well." Now that you are here _ma cherie_, she thought. "Although I must confess that I am rather tired after this week. I am glad to be returning home to my family, if only for a few days." She let her body sink into one of the arms of the sofa, curling her legs up under her, facing the young witch.

Hermione followed suit, taking off her shoes and making herself comfortable on the other side of the sofa. The sofa was quite small however, and she noticed how small the space between their knees was. She could feel her cheeks heating up, and took a sip of her tea to hide her embarrassment. She looked over at Fleur, who was looking serenely into the fire. The older woman appeared completely at ease in the silence. Hermione found her eyes slowly making their way down the other woman's body, noticing the shine of her hair, the way she held her cup clasped in both hands, and the way her waist curved just so. She could deny herself no longer. This woman was the most beautiful being she had ever seen.

Fleur could feel Hermione's eyes on her, and turned her head back towards the Gryffindor. Ice-blue eyes locked with deep brown, and they both paused in their movements, held by the connection. Unconsciously Fleur shifted a little on the couch, and her knee brushed that of Hermione's. A ripple of electricity shot up her body, bringing a delicious tingle to her spine, and she saw the other woman's eyes widen as she undoubtedly felt the same spark.

The connection that had been there since the Veela had first laid eyes on her mate swelled; making her heart beat faster as they stared into each other's eyes. As Hermione consciously acknowledged her acceptance of Fleur, she too felt her heart beat faster as warmth flooded her entire body. The connection that had been lying dormant bloomed into life, and it seemed to Hermione that somehow she had known Fleur for her entire life (something she knew logically, was impossible).

With their eyes still locked, Fleur set her teacup down on the little table next to her. Almost in a trance she moved closer to the girl, drawn in. She carefully moved the brunette's legs so that they were draped over her own as she moved her body next to her mate's. Hermione's breath hitched as Fleur moved closer until their faces were just inches apart. The Veela smiled now, a soft smile that brought light to her eyes. She gently pried Hermione's tea cup out of her clenched hands, and levitated it over to the tray.

The Veela hovered over the Gryffindor, holding herself up with one arm propped on the sofa behind the girl's head. With the other hand she gently brushed Hermione's soft waves of hair away from her face. "You feel it too don't you?" Fleur murmured, her voice taking on a husky, musical quality. She chuckled lowly "The hand of Fate…this is the only moment either of us will feel it in our lifetimes. Not many people are lucky enough to feel it like we do." She cupped Hermione's cheek, and suddenly their lips were almost touching. The girl's eyes had darkened, desire shining clearly in them. Now Fleur's breath hitched. She was captured by this woman, completely at her mercy; even though for now she remained dominant.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and their lips touched. Fleur's entire mind went blank, as the mere brush of Hermione's lips on her own created an explosion that rocketed through her system. She was lost in the sensation of Hermione's lips as they kissed gently at first, then with more urgency. She sank into the younger girl, their bodies so close they were almost one. She had waited so long for this moment, and she drank it in, becoming inebriated on the ecstasy she was experiencing.

The blonde broke away; suddenly afraid she had moved too fast and made the wrong decision. Panting, she watched the girl below her, whose own breaths were labored and fast. Their eyes met and locked. Hermione smiled now, and Fleur breathed a sigh of relief, looking down. She hadn't messed everything up. She worried she had used her Veela's song unconsciously when she had spoken to force Hermione's will to meet her own. She hoped her girl wasn't angry with her or-

A voice interrupted Fleur's thoughts. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long…"

The Veela's eyes widened in surprise, and her blue orbs snapped back up to her mate's. "_Non_, _ma cherie_. Do not be sorry. It is I who shou-" Her sentence was cut off abruptly as Hermione pulled her back down, kissing her gently. Their urgency had abated, and the kisses they shared were languid, unrushed and tender.

Hermione pulled back and looked deep into Fleur's clear blue eyes. "Don't worry about anything Fleur," the Veela's name rolled easily off her tongue "I know this is what I want." The Gryffindor smiled gently and Fleur felt her heart melt at the warmth she saw in those brown eyes.

The two witches spent the rest of the evening cuddling and talking. Fleur was overjoyed that things were finally going in the right direction. She could feel the joy bubbling up in her chest, threatening to pour out in song.

At midnight, Hermione untangled herself from Fleur's limbs and stretched. She was surprised how comfortable and at ease she had been in Fleur's embrace. She had enjoyed herself very much. "I think I should get back to my dorm now Fleur." She said.

"I suppose you should." The Veela conceded. She sighed. "I will see you on Monday then?" she asked as she walked Hermione over to the door.

"Of course 'Professor'" said Hermione, teasing.

Fleur was surprised at the comment, and smiled. "Have a wonderful weekend _ma cherie._" She leaned in and kissed the brunette lightly. "Goodnight."

* * *

Hermione was practically glowing as she stepped through the Fat Lady's portrait. She was about to go up to her room when she heard Harry's voice.

" Hermione!" She looked around to see him sitting on the couch in front of the fire place.

"Hey Harry, what are you doing up?" she asked walking over. She plopped herself down next to him on the couch.

"I was just reading. Ginny said she would come down in a bit."

Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically at him.

"Oh shut up. How was Professor Delacour?" He asked, switching the topic and watching her carefully.

She couldn't stop the blush from creeping onto her face. "She was good." She answered shortly.

"Yeah?" Harry tried to conceal the mirth in his voice. "How good exactly? You have something on your neck by the way."

Hermione gaped at him, and her hand flew to cover what she realized was a little love bite. Her whole face turned red and she was a loss for words. "It's not-! I mean…it is- no, I…" she gave up exasperated. "It's a long story." She finished.

Harry laughed at her. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. If Ron found out…he'd have a downright fit!" A noise came from the stairwell. "Ah, you'll have to tell me tomorrow." He smiled at Ginny who now stood in the common room. "Goodnight Hermione." He grinned at her, and led his girlfriend out of the room. Hermione could only imagine where they were going. Or what they were going to do. She snorted.

The brunette made her way to her room, and got into bed. She was happy with the way her evening had gone, even if everything had been a little abrupt and unexpected. It had been wonderful. She was glad she had finally opened her mind to the idea of giving Fleur a chance, even though she was still scared of what was to come. Everything seemed all right, good, in fact. She placed a finger on her lips and smiled; she could still feel the tingles her professor's lips had left on her own.

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**Thanks for reading!**

**As always, reviews are much appreciated!  
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